One day we got a call from Mrs. Armstrong. I didn’t know her, but my dad told me how she owned the local washateria. Having lives outside of town, t...is wasn’t somewhere I’d ever visited.On the ride over to Mrs. Armstrong’s my Dad told me how this place had been there for years. The house was right next to the business. Mr. Armstrong passed away a few years ago and she continued to run the place. It was the only local place for those without washing machines to wash their clothes.When we got. The opportunity was a while in coming, but when it did, it proved to bemore than well worth the wait."Jacquelyn, let's go upstairs I need to do your face so we can goshopping." Yes Jane," came the immediate reply.Jacquelyn sat down at the vanity and Jane moved behind her and liftedher now longer hair. "I think we can do a ponytail for you today," shesaid matter-of-factly."Okay. Can I have the yellow ribbon instead of that pink thing?" heasked reasonably."Sure," said Jane noticing yet again his. More

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